“Other than the night nurse, Señora Suarez lives on her own. She is a widow of many years and has no surviving family. She is a very wealthy woman, and the house contains many valuable artworks that need protecting. She has two security guards, Antonio and Javier, who do alternate twelve-hours shifts.”

“What time is the evening handover?”

“They usually swap over at eight.”

Vargas thought for a moment before asking the next question. “Does she ever have any visitors?”

“Not that I’ve ever seen, chief inspector. She doesn’t have any friends that I’m aware of.”

Vargas glanced at Hembury to see if he wanted to ask anything.

“Nic, I know it’s a long shot, but can you ask her if she knows anything about the people who lived in the house prior to Suarez.”

Clearly the nurse didn’t speak English, so Vargas translated the question. Gabriel nodded towards Hembury before answering.

“She once told me that El Negus was built to her own design with the help of a leading architect from Córdoba. She said the previous owners were close personal friends and, when they died, she bought the land, which included an old farmhouse, from the estate. Obviously, that was pulled down. I think it all happened back in the seventies.”

Vargas jumped in. “Do you recall the name of the previous owners?”

The nurse shook her head. “No, I don’t recall her ever mentioning their name. Is it important?”

Vargas and Hembury stood up to signal the interview was over.

“Thank you, Señora Gabriel, you’ve been very helpful. Please keep our meeting confidential. Is there anything else of interest you want to tell us?”

The nurse stood up and began to usher them towards the door. “Only that, in eleven days’ time, Señora Suarez celebrates her one hundredth birthday.”

They returned to their hotel room and raided the small fridge for some peanuts and Hershey bars. Both men were working on their laptops when Hembury broke the silence. He had been researching everything he could find online about Hitler and his supposed suicide.

“Christ, Nic, Hitler’s dog was called Blondi. He named the bloody farmhouse after his pet Alsatian. In fact, the official story goes that Himmler gave him cyanide capsules, which he tried out on the dog before giving one to Eva Braun. The name of the house was a tribute to the dog he poisoned.”

Vargas closed his own laptop and glanced at his watch. “Further proof, if we needed it, that the Führer lived right here in El Calafate. Let’s allow a good hour for the new guard to settle in and then we will pay Señora Suarez a visit.”

“Yes, I can’t wait to wish her many happy returns on her upcoming birthday.”